Do Not Be Late
by CeciACelosia
Summary: Being kidnapped and chucked down a hole is all well and good, but Arthur Pendragon has a Kingdom to run - he has no time to spare for crazy sorceresses, mentally afflicted servants or definitely-not-drunk Knights. A strange Alice In Wonderland inspired fic. With no slash. Maybe. I might just turn this into a large orgy. But not really. That's bad. Apparently. Oh just click already
1. Introduction - Memory

"_Who on earth are you? Leave my chambers at once!"_

Arthur Pendragon is not feeling all too hospitable towards the strange, cloaked elderly lady who has entered his chambers. The old woman doesn't seem to notice, or if she does, she simply doesn't care.

"I am a busy soul who has lost her way, Arthur Pendragon." The woman's voice defies her years, strong determination bursting through her tiny frame.

"Yes, right. That's great and all, but you can't be here," Arthur stresses, running a hand through his hair. It's not even midday and already he just wants to go back to bed and ignore the world. He can't just attack her, the old dear looks like she'd collapse if you put but a hand on her shoulder. "I'll call a guard to escort you home," Arthur decides.

"I am late! Late, late, late... Do you have the time? I seem to have lost it..."

"What? Look, you're obviously confused. How did you even get in here? Just... Never mind, I'll get you home. Guards!"

"I'm late, Arthur Pendragon! I am late and you will be too if you don't hurry! Everyone is going to be late_!"_

Arthur's vision suddenly flickers, as the unmistakable swirl of gold passes through the old woman's eyes. Her tone echoes and booms, a hint of worry to the power behind her own words, yet no one comes into the chambers to help their King. A sorceress – how on earth could Arthur have been so bloody stupid?! Her expression is heavily neutral beneath her thick white clock, her hood now down to expose a shock of wild white hair and heavily aged dark skin. Odd symbols are painted on her cheeks – spirals?

"W... who the hell are you?" Arthur slurs as his knees weaken. He has no strength to shout or to attack, his body like a lead weight as his vision darkens, yet he will not fall without at least knowing the name of his attacker. At the back of his mind, he notes that Merlin still hasn't shown up to wake him up that morning, which was why he had dressed himself (with more difficultly than he cared to admit) that morning. Where the hell was he? And where were the guards?

"I am The White Rabbit. You are Her Alice. Do not be late."

Arthur Pendragon slumps down to the floor, his world black.


	2. One - Falling, Confusion and George

Arthur awakes with a gasp. His memory ends there, although he has no time to dwell on it. He is not bound, or gagged, or surrounded by thugs as he expected despite his sluggish mind. No, instead one Arthur Pendragon is _plummeting_. Tumbling head over heels, too shocked to even scream as his eyes widen and his hair whips into his face. It's dark, and Arthur is panicking. Did the old woman chuck him over a bloody cliff? She did, didn't she!

He pulls his mind from it's confused state and tries to focus on what is happening, which _happens_ to involve a large amount of falling. At some point, he notes that he has actually opened his mouth and started screaming, but if anything he finds that it's helping him concentrate. The fall stretches onwards and onwards, and concentrating on his surroundings Arthur notes that it isn't entirely dark and that he is surrounded by strange _glowing_ mud walls as he falls. He also finally notes that _things_ are falling alongside him.

_What the hell is going on!?_

This is too weird. Tumbling up, down and around with him are spinning swords (which are bloody hard to dodge whilst falling) and fluttering books (baring symbols he wouldn't even know where to _begin_ to decipher.) He sees floating crowns and flying fine materials, strange hovering orbs and, finally, a white cloak...

_Do Not Be Late!_

Arthur reaches for the billowing cloak automatically, his screams harshly silenced as he continues to tumble down what he can only refer to as the seemingly Endless Hole. Just as he touches the cloak, about to know the feeling of the material for himself... The floor comes into view and the cloak _dissolves_. Arthur is more worried about the floor – It's a sight that causes Arthur to convey some very verbal and _unKingly_ feelings.

_Oh fuck me!_

He tries to tuck his flailing body inwards for impact, tries to find his feet, only to realize he can't control his movements well enough, and continues to plummet to his obvious demise.

Only... he's slowing down, and Arthur is no scientist but from what he knows he is pretty sure people only slow down from a major fall _very abruptly_. Arthur does not want to slow down _very abruptly, _and for reasons he doesn't dwell upon it seems fate is smiling kindly upon him as he continues to slow his decent until he is almost _floating_.

The floor is suddenly mere inches away, and Arthur is in an upright position about to touch-down from his floating speed. Even so, when his feet finally touch the floor, a massive shock travels through his entire body and causes him to collapse onto the floor.

_Brilliant._

After a silent moment of gritted teeth and clenched fists, the sharp pain disappears and Arthur pulls himself to his feet with a grunt, his thoughts _racing_ now he is both awake and no longer falling. It was that bloody _Witch_, definitely! She's somehow managed to kidnap the King of bloody Camelot and deposit him in a bloody hole and then, if only to mess with him, somehow stop him from becoming a puddle of Kingly _goop_ on the ground. Damned crazy sorcerers and the like – Are they all truly this _mad_?

Arthur shakes his head sourly, forcing himself to keep the little composure he has left, and scans the area as he reaches for his sword, the action in itself yet another one of Arthur's seemingly innate reactions to almost all Dangerous And Confusing situations.

Arthur is genuinely surprised to feel his hand actually grip around the familiar hilt of his sword. As he had reached for it he was suddenly sure that the Witch would have taken his weapon, but no. He hadn't lost it in the fall, either. Well, at least he's armed.

The thought of being able to aptly protect himself for more than mere hand-to-hand combat causes Arthur to suppress a small smile, and he keeps his hand on the hilt for an unsaid comfort.

His surroundings are much like the hole he fell through. He is surrounded by massive looming mud walls, all glowing gently to light up the environment in a warm and almost comforting fashion – like a fire in Arthur's chambers as a storm would rage outside. The floor itself is also dried mud. It's, simply put, one empty large mud room around the size of Arthur's chambers, no windows or doors, and as Arthur steps towards one of the surrounding glowing walls he sees that the cause of the glow seems to be tiny blue crystals embedded in the very mud itself.

Arthur scratches softly at the solid mud with his fingers, before flicking it from his nails with distaste. The smell of the earth is thick in the air. Do his Knights realize he is missing yet? Perhaps his incompetent manservant has finally woken up and entered Arthur's chambers and noticed he is indeed not there. How on earth has that old woman managed to smuggle Arthur, the _King_, out of Camelot, his _Kingdom_, with no one noticing? There is no way. _Someone_ will have noticed by now. So does that mean the Witch had fought her way out?

Arthur's stomach clenches at the thought of casualties. His stern demeanour is betraying his sudden panic rising in his chest - What of his friends? His family? Is Gwen okay? What about his knights? And what if Merlin had actually walked in on the Witch attempting to take Arthur? No doubt Merlin would try and be all stoic and _brave_, heck he would actually try to take on the Witch himself despite being weedier than a gangly little kid.

_What if she's killed him?_

Arthur's heart tries in earnest to stop in his damn chest as Arthur continues to stare blankly at the wall. No, no Merlin can take care of himself. He's like a bloody cockroach; you couldn't kill him if you tried. Arthur assures himself this several times over before finally turning around to face the centre of the room... And gasps.

The room is no longer empty – there is in fact a new addition. One single and absolutely massive bolted wooden door. (Who has time to build this stuff?) Without a second thought Arthur runs towards it (how on earth did he bloody miss it?) and reaches for the massive black metal door-handle...

Only to find the hard way that he is far too short to reach the bloody thing. He jumps like an idiot to try and reach it, before cursing and trying to scale the door itself, also like an idiot. He doesn't even reach the first black door-hinge before falling onto his behind. He gains a bruised butt and a list of profanities he was unaware he even knew.

He takes a step back from the door, before swallowing his anger at the thing (who the hell would make such a stupidly large door?) and turning back around, planning on looking for anything that could help him. If he had missed the massive door, maybe he might have missed something else, too...

Like the damned wooden table in the middle of the room.

Arthur stiffens. He knows that there is no _way_ that he missed that table. The table is most definitely a new addition to his predicament. Wonderful.

"Who put this here?!" Arthur demands, trying not to jolt at how swiftly his own voice tears through the room's silence. He pulls his sword from his side, the unsheathed metal making a long and echoed scraping sound, looking anywhere but the table which holds a whole selection of strange liquids in bottles and foods. It briefly reminds Arthur of Gaius.

"Come out immediately!" Arthur continues loudly. "I know there's someone else here – Reveal yourself!"

There is no reply as Arthur threatens nobody-in-particular, his eyes desperately scanning the environment, before a soft clearing of the throat is heard behind Arthur.

Even under pain of death, he will never admit that he screamed. Like a King, of course. A Kingly scream. Because that sort of thing exists.

Whipping around with his sword stiffly at hand, Arthur readies himself to strike whatever had made the noise down, before almost dropping his sword at a familiar face.

Arthur took a step backwards.

"Wh... _George_?"

Yes, standing before Arthur and directly in front of the door is one stern looking George, Arthur's least-favourite and yet most-effective servant. His eyebrows shoot up at Arthur's outburst, briefly taking in the weapon Arthur is gripping with white-knuckle nerves. Arthur takes in a long breath as he looks at the servant, who is wearing surprisingly good-quality clothes; a brown open suit jacket covered in gold and red trimmings, pants to match and a ruffled white shirt beneath the suit-jacket.

Arthur stores away the thought that perhaps he should look at exactly how much George is being paid.

"George, Sir?" George says, his voice distinctly calm and predicted. George always did sound like he was talking from a script, and today is no exception. How George manages to have a carefully planned reply to every situation is beyond Arthur.

"I'm sorry Sir, but my title is not _George_. Please refer to me as the Lord Door-Knob." 


	3. Two - Food, Drink and a Door

Arthur's jaw falls open, and he tries not to dwell on George's choice in name being strangely _hilarious_ and more than a dash worrying.

"Lord D... _What_? George, are you quite alright? I assume that the _Witch_ got you too, then... Come, we must get this door open and return to Camelot!" Arthur says, finally and unsteadily sheathing his sword. He's annoyed at the fact that he's getting more questions than answers. Why has the Witch taken George too? And that's with his strange attire? Did the man hit his head? He must have fallen down the hole too... But why hadn't Arthur seen him before?

If George's eyebrows could rise any further off his head they would be in danger of falling off the man's very face.

"The Witch, Sir? There are many _Witches_, and there are many _Thes_. And I must add, Sir, that assumption is simply an excuse for inadequate knowledge."

Arthur is visibly surprised at George's sudden sharp tongue bathed in his even voice, but now is not an appropriate time for reprimands. The man must be stressed, that's all, and Arthur knows the servant is as loyal as any other.

"Look, George," Arthur sighs, holding up a hand as George makes to correct Arthur. "Please, we can discuss this back at Camelot. First and foremost, we must open this door and figure out where we are. Do you remember how you got here?"

George frowns before shaking his head. "I have always been here, Sir. The sun rises and sets, the tide in and out, the Queen is the word and I, Sir, am _here_." George recites his line like one read from a book, comfortable in his facts and immersed in his weird role. Arthur is becoming more than concerned for the servant; the man is not all there and Arthur decides that after returning to Camelot he will send George to Gaius.

"George," Arthur says, narrowing his eyes. "We need to open this door, please focus."

"You are far too short to reach the handle." George points out. Arthur fights the urge to pull his own hair out.

"Yes, I know. Give me a boost, and I might be able to reach the handle..."

George looks horrified as Arthur waits expectantly.

"Sir, I cannot help you! You must do it yourself!"

Arthur is coming to the end of his tether with George, and silently convinces himself that it would be a very bad idea to strangle George with his bare hands.

"How on earth can I leave if you won't bloody help me?" Arthur demands. George points to something behind Arthur, and Arthur turns to see the table.

"There's some foods, potions and salves on the table. See if one can help you."

Arthur turns to glare at an unmoving George, before storming over to the table. The man will obviously be no help in his current mental state, that's for sure. Soon enough Arthur is hovering over the (thankfully normal sized) table, scanning over the different coloured liquids. There are also silver plates on which breads and fruits and other delicacies reside. Arthur, for once, is not hungry.

"They are all labelled, Sir," George says from behind Arthur. Arthur rolls his eyes.

"Thank you, George."

"Lord Door-Knob."

Arthur groans and picks up a clear bottle of red liquid. Sure enough, a white label hangs from around a brown cork on the top.

"Drink Me," Arthur reads.

Arthur takes a moment to hoist up an eyebrow as he puts the bottle down and inspects all the others. They say the exact same thing in the same scrawled black handwriting, bar the food which dons a _helpful_ 'Eat Me' on the plates.

"Very simplistic instructions. Where is the other information? How do I know what these things even are?"

"Consume them and you will find out."

Arthur looks to the table incredulously. "You want me to drink and eat something that, as far as I know, could be _poison_? How on earth will these help me open a _door_? No, George. I have a better idea."

Before George can say another word, Arthur unsheathes his sword yet again and with a swift movement wipes all the table's contents onto the floor with it. The plates clatter and the bottles smash, liquids spilling and food scattering and a general mess is made against the mud floor. Arthur briefly notes with a small smile the sheer _fit_ Merlin would throw if made to clean this up.

"_Sir_! You can't do that! Wh... What on _Earth_ made you do that? You were supposed to consume these products and have an emotional experience in which you learn how to harness their powers!" George exclaims, pure incredulous shock in his raised tone. Arthur lets himself enjoy the disarray in the usually-calm man's tone – It was strangely pleasant to the annoyed King.

"This, _George_, is called common sense," Arthur starts, walking around the table so that George (who still hadn't moved) could be seen on the other side. He then begins to push the large wooden table, his feet digging into the ground as he begins to sweat with the effort.

"Now," he grunts as he inches the table across the floor with great difficultly. The table nudges it's ruined contents as it slowly scrapes along the solid mud. "I suggest you _move_ your ass and help me before I move it for you!"

George looks to the mess on the floor with a distant sadness and a whole lot of horror before looking back to Arthur and the table that is slowly but surely heading towards him. The determination in Arthur's eyes is undeniable, and with a long uncertain groan George finally moves. His steps are long and precise, setting against his obvious distaste for the entire situation, as he moves up next to Arthur and helps the man push.

It takes a good five minutes of wordless grunting before the table finally knocks up against the wall, and Arthur watches with amusement as George falls back against the mud, panting heavily. Arthur stretches his arms over his head and pulls a face. He's briefly reminded of Merlin as he observes George, and he swallows as he remembers his situation. He needs to know everyone is alright – How is Gwen fairing? Is she okay? If that _Witch_ has laid a _finger_ on her, on Merlin, on Gaius or his knights or _anyone_, Arthur isn't even going to blink before putting her head on a damned _spike_.

The resolve puts a fire back into Arthur's blood, and without wasting another second Arthur jumps onto the (rather sturdy) table and reaches for the door handle. It's a one which you pull down, one Arthur has rarely seen, and with a wordless shout he jumps up from the table and pulls down on the handle with all his body-weight.

To Arthur's joy, the door swings open outwards, fresh air whipping against his face as sunlight surrounds him. To _less_ of his joy, his _dismay_ even, the door takes him with it in it's movements and soon enough he is outside in a large wood, hanging from a door handle a long way from the ground. Since when was the door _this_ far from the ground?

It'll be a long and painful way down, and Arthur is sceptical to the thought that perhaps he will 'magically float' again.

"George! Help me!"

"I'm _not_ George, Sir! And I _must_ stay here! It is my job, my _role_! To break my role would be but one card falling out of a deck – you may not notice Sir but you cannot play without it!"

"George! I'm going to _fall_, are you seriously okay with just watching me?" Arthur yells desperately, his grip loosening under his sweating palms.

There's a long silence, and for a moment Arthur is sure George is ignoring him. Arthur looks around for a nearby tree-branch or something to grab, when he hears the unmistakable sound of a large object scratching against the ground accompanied by annoyed grunts.

This goes on for a long while, too long, and just as Arthur is becoming sure he will fall, a clearing-of-the-throat is heard.

"The table is beneath you, Sir. Please drop."

Arthur drops, and lands heavily on the table with a grunt. After a whole lot of scrambling, Arthur is on the ground and smiling at George.

"Thankyou, now let's see if we can figure out exactly where we are..."


	4. Three - Prove No Manners

"Caucus Forest," George says though sharp breaths. Arthur notes that George's once-immaculate suit it now quite dirty and a little torn. A pang of guilt stabs though him, and he resolves to see it fixed in future. George may be his servant, a little dull (though he has a surprisingly sharp tongue) and seemingly a little 'confused' (see: absolutely mad) right now, but he is a good man and is helping Arthur despite his suggested mental-affliction. Gaius will definitely know what's wrong with the man.

"Caucus Forest?" Arthur frowns. "Never heard of it – there's nothing like that in the whole of Camelot's land. How do you know?"

"Never mind that Sir, I know it's name and so there are no problems. Do you _doubt_ my knowledge?" George snaps back. Arthur folds his arms.

"George, I've been quite lenient with you due to our situation, but our _main_ concern is to get back to Camelot right now and we need all the help we can get," Arthur says sternly, using his formal tone of voice usually reserved for annoying but important visitors, _and_ a certain gangly manservant.  
George flinches a tad, before nodding slowly. Arthur keeps his face stern despite feeling a pang of guilt.

"Good. Now, I don't suppose you know how to get to Camelot from here?" Arthur sighs, little hope in his question. George rolls his eyes.

"Everyone knows where Camelot is, Sir. The Queen lives there."

"I live there too George, if you remember."

"I'm still not George. And the Queen lives at Camelot. Are you her servant? Though that cannot be right - I am positive it is not your role."

Arthur looks genuinely disturbed and grabs George without warning.

"Hey!" George yelps, as Arthur rakes through the man's hair. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a head-injury!" Arthur says, finally pushing the man back. "George, what the hell is wrong with you? You do remember who I am , yes? Arthur – King of Camelot?"

George makes no move to say anything, when suddenly a sharp bark of laughter leaves the man's lips, followed by a less forced and more amused chuckle. It's almost relieving, watching George let such a natural human action take him over, but then Arthur takes on a frustrated and worried look before slapping George's arm.

"Come on, let's go. Gaius definitely needs a look at you and I need to see if Guinevere's alright."

The laugher stops.

"I am not leaving here, Sir! I must keep my position – The Queen will have my head if I leave! She might anyway seeing I helped you... There was a list! A quota! Rules, Sir! _Rules_!"

Arthur tunes out George's crap as he looks around at the towering trees. _Gwen_ would have his head? Fat chance. She probably doesn't even know where George is. Trees, trees and more trees. There should be a sign or something somewhere...

Arthur catches snippets of whatever George is banging on about as he mentally makes a plan of action. Something about a river of tears, mice and William the Conqueror. George is definitely a strange one.

"George," Arthur suddenly says. George gives up on his correction of title and responds with a cold, brisk 'yes'.

"You said you know where Camelot is from here? I'm less inclined to believe you regarding your... _state of mind_, but I wouldn't mind a second opinion."

"You can't go straight to Camelot, there are other things to do first!" George stresses.

"I think you'll find I can and will. There is no time for distractions!"

George makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat.

"You are messing everything up already, I hope you know that. Look, I suppose you can miss out The Duchess and Bill – I never liked those guys anyway. We used to play poker together, but they never played fair."

"I thought you said you had always been in that mud-room?" Arthur says, already beginning to walk through the trees looking for any hints about Camelot. George follows without prompt as he replies.

"I did and I had. Until _you_ came along, anyway. As I was saying, you could probably miss those guys out but I must be adamant about The Caterpillar. I cannot remember the quickest route to Camelot anyway, and I'm pretty sure he will know."  
_  
_Arthur sighs.

"I'm looking for Camelot, not a bloody..."

"There he is!"

Arthur watches as George exerts a surprising amount of energy and speeds off ahead of Arthur, beyond several large bushes and as many trees.

"Wh... George! Wait!"

Cursing the fact Arthur never gets a normal servant, he follows George with haste.

A panting Arthur finally spots the back of George's head in the distance, besides what looks like a massive... mushroom. Right. As he gets closer, his eyes wide at the towering red mushroom leaning up against two trees, he sees George is arguing with a strange man dressed all in red.

"What's going on?" Arthur demands, running forward and pulling George to one side to observe the man in red. He wears a suit made of what looks like stiff red fabric, a closed jacket and red pants hemmed with red playing cards. The man also wears a single red card (one with a heart and a seven on it) on his forehead, held in place with a red band which contrasts heavily against the man's thick black hair. He bares what could be described as harsh features against an ageing face, his eyes a strange shade of purple. Arthur can't help but feel he looks a bit of a twa-

"Lord Door-Knob here is away from his station. And _you_ are early. You are not supposed to be here yet – The Caterpillar is not yet ready," the man suddenly states.

"What do you mean he isn't ready?" George demands. "The Caterpillar is always ready because it is his job to be so! Just like _yours_, which is to be up in Camelot!"

Arthur opens his mouth to interject something along the lines of 'no way is someone this strange from Camelot because if so Arthur would probably end up having him in his collection of idiot servants' when the man speaks up over him.

"My job is to serve The Queen. The Queen is pretty damn sure she doesn't want _anyone_ to be late, but she most certainly does _not_ want _anyone_ to be early either! I have had to re-arrange everything because of you, Lord Door-Knob, and you will be paying _severely_!"

Suddenly angry, Arthur makes to unsheathe his sword without a word and steadily points it at the man in red.  
_  
_"Watch your tongue. I will not take the threatening of _any_ of my servants!"

"Servant?" the man replays, ignoring Arthur's sword and looking to George. George only shrugs, in his mind getting used to Arthur's strange outbursts.

Then a long, loud groan suddenly comes from atop the mushroom, and George jumps a mile.

"Ah, he's awake. He might be a bit confused, seeing as I woke him up _early_," the man says, looking pointedly at George, "But he should be coherent."

Arthur makes to ask what in the hell the man is going on about, before he disappears.

Literally

In a puff of red smoke.

George groans loudly. "That man is an intolerable one, for sure."

"He bloody _disappeared_! He's a sorcerer!" Arthur spits, as if on autopilot. George looks curiously at Arthur, before looking up to the mushroom.

"He's awake, Sir," George says simply, cutting Arthur from his rant. Arthur finds himself looking upwards, frowning to see a chain he has only just noticed winding up the red stem of the mushroom and onto the head, on top of which Arthur could not see.

Perhaps Arthur will finally get some answers to his many, many questions.


	5. Four - Merlin and Character-Breaking

The chain rattles, and is followed by a series of grunts – each growing with what seems like panic mixed with annoyance. Arthur feels a slight lump in his chest, something isn't right.

"Wh... Where am I? Hey... Hey! Who put this bloody chain here! Is... is this a _script_? Show yourself!"

Arthur stiffens at the familiar (and very confused) voice. There's no way he could mistake it after all of these years.

"_Merlin_? Merlin is that you? Are you up there?" Arthur calls, making his way to the stalk of the mushroom to examine it.

"A… Arthur! Where are you? What's going on?" the voice demands. Arthur almost laughs – putting the situation to one side it was nice to hear someone as confused as he himself is.

"Use his proper title! He is The Caterpillar!" George hisses urgently. Arthur doesn't look at him.

"He is my manservant, not a bloody caterpillar George."

Seeing there is no way Arthur can possibly climb up the stalk, he calls up again over Merlin's startled and desperate questions.

"Merlin, shut up for five seconds! I'm down here below the mushroom! Can you see any way down?"

"The _what_?! I... no, I can't," Merlin shouts after a brief silence. "Some idiot put a bloody _chain_ on my ankle! What do you want me to do? Jump down into your arms? Prat! And what the hell are you talking about a mushroom for?"

Arthur watches as the chain moves rapidly, Merlin now obviously moving around. Noting the two trees the mushroom leans up against have lots of strong looking branches, Arthur ignores his servants usual lack of respect and calls up again.

"Look, go over to the trees near you. Can you climb down?"

"Chain, Arthur. _Chain_!"

"Can you not break it, The Caterpillar?" George suddenly calls up, an annoyed note to his tone.

"George? Is that you too? … I'm really confused now."

Arthur laughs shortly and without humour before rolling his eyes. "Merlin, we don't have time for this. We need to get back to Camelot; do you remember being taken by that Witch at all?"

"Kind of... I think. Look, give me a second and let me see what I can do about this bloody chain."

Arthur shares an unbelieving look with George for all but five seconds before a large manacle crashes in-between them, causing them to jump backwards.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouts, staring wildly at the offending object. He then sees an arm reach from the side of the mushroom and to the tree, soon followed by the rest of his wayward servant. Soon Merlin can be seen clinging on to the tree for his life as he attempts to climb down.

"How on earth did you manage that?" Arthur demands, watching the man warily as he dashes over to the tree. He knows the idiot has a terrible track-record with anything that involves good hand-eye coordination and so follows his each move carefully.

"I have..."

"If you even _dare_ suggest you have 'Many talents,' again, I swear I will come up there myself and throw you from that damn tree!"

Merlin says nothing, instead focusing his concentration on _not_ falling as he rolls his eyes. Arthur's heart is in his mouth as Merlin misses a footing and almost plummets. Merlin gasps and bear-hugs the tree, desperately trying to find footing.

"Merlin! Left! _Left_ dammit!" Arthur instructs loudly, clenching his fists. Merlin mumbles something Arthur would gladly hit Merlin around the head for under usual circumstances, but follows his master's instruction none-the-less.

"Where's the nearest branch?" Merlin calls.

"Down... Not that far! Up... left... _there_!"

Arthur's disjointed commands continue for another ten minutes, George observing in a stiff silence, before Merlin finally touches ground. He only nearly plummets to his death seven times altogether – Arthur notes that it is far less than he expected.

Arthur pats his servant on the back with a shaky grin.

"Well done; you didn't die," he offers. Merlin glowers, stretching his limbs tenderly.

"Your instructions were _rubbish_ – I'm surprised I'm standing in one piece," he grumbles sourly. Arthur only laughs, this time genuine, before taking in Merlin's appearance. His manservant is wearing what looks like a _kaleidoscope_ – a colourful sash littered with gleaming gemstones covers his bare torso and brown puffy pants are forced to match with his outfit. Someone has even taken the time to plait a small strand of Merlin's hair with some ridiculously-colourful string.

"_What_ do you think you are _wearing_?" Arthur says, raising an eyebrow as he gestures to Merlin's... everything. Merlin looks a little confused, before glancing down and swearing under his breath.

"Someone's changed my clothes! I thought it was colder than usual... What the hell are _these_?"

"You look like the kind of dancer _Gwaine_ would pay to see," Arthur comments, an amused grin twitching at his lips.

"Do not talk to The Caterpillar like that!" George suddenly pipes up, breaking his previous silence. Arthur turns to face the man, and Merlin's expression borders on comical as he takes in George for the first time.

"George? What are _you_ wearing? And what are you on about? The Caterpillar?" Merlin says. George steps forward, seemingly appreciating the fact he is now back in the conversation.

"The Caterpillar, please do not tell me you've forgotten my title too? Am I that forgettable?" George frowns, scratching the back of his head. Merlin switches his gaze to Arthur.

"Is he alright?" Merlin mutters.

"I think he's hit his head at some point – I'm going to get Gaius to look at him. Just don't give much attention to whatever he sprouts; Camelot knows I haven't."

"I can hear you, Sir!" George says indignantly. Merlin adopts his previous confused expression yet again, before running a hand through his hair, frowning as his hand knocks against the braid.

"I was asleep – Gaius probably was too, and I remember waking up to some strange woman standing over my cot. I was going to take her home, she seemed pretty confused, but then she said something about being late, and now I'm here," Merlin recalls. Arthur nods, the question of why he, George and Merlin have been taken on the tip of his tongue. He shakes his head, knowing Merlin will know no more than he already does.

"I had a similar experience. At least I know I'm not going mad, then. We need to get back to Camelot, to see if everyone is okay," Arthur announces. Merlin agrees wholeheartedly as he absent-mindedly picks at his new clothing, and George hangs his head.

"So you're leaving your post too, The Caterpillar? The Queen is going to have my head for sure..."

"Gwen wouldn't do such a thing, George," Merlin says, as if talking to a child. "Also _please_ use my name – I'm not even sure 'The Caterpillar' can be classed as a proper title for _anyone_."

Arthur begins to walk, safe in the knowledge both Merlin and George will soon catch up, and makes his way past the mushroom. Sure enough, the frantic pattering of feet soon follows him, accompanied by the sounds of 'Arthur, wait!' and 'Sir, slow down'!

"Do you even know where Camelot is from here? I don't even know where this place is!" Merlin says, finally caught up.

"The Hatter will know, seeing as you've completely _failed_ your job," George interrupts dryly, looking icily towards Merlin. Merlin only looks a little sadly at the man before walking directly into Arthur's back.

"Ow! My _face_! Arthur, why have you stopped?" Merlin demands, rubbing the side of his head briskly. George stops by Merlin's side, albeit in a much more graceful manner. Merlin frowns as George takes the time to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Gwaine – Percival and Leon too! Are they... Having a _tea party_?" Arthur says quietly, drawing Merlin's attention away from the cocky George.

Glancing around Arthur, Merlin then gapes at the sight before them.

Sure enough, in a small clearing surrounded by trees is a long table covered in breads and cheeses, and a whole lot of empty bottles. It certainly doesn't seem the bottles do, or ever did, contain _tea _or something of tea's likeness to hold up Arthur's idea of a tea party, as the man sitting at the top of the table swigs from a green bottle with a grin. Blue liquid dribbles down his chin before he smashes the bottle off the floor. _Gwaine_.

He is dressed in an emerald-green suit that seems may have once been extraordinarily beautiful, but is now covered in brown and grey poorly-sewn patches. He also, and most strangely, wears a tall green patch-worked hat covered in what Merlin can only describe at 'tat'.

On the left side of the long table, near Gwaine at the top, sits Percival and Leon. Percival is wearing a simple raggy brown shirt and pants to match, and is supposedly asleep as he sits with his head resting on the table, his cheek laying on a white plate beneath him. Leon is sniggering at his side, wearing a white and considerably tidier version of Percival's clothing as he knocks back some of his own drink.

Arthur steps forward.

_A/N: Jam – If you've read this far, thank you very much :) I'll stop here for a little while, seeing as there isn't much interest in the fic and it takes a while to write, but I WILL finish this! I really enjoy writing it. _


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